Once Upon a December
by DrowningFelix
Summary: When lord Black begins looking for his long lost godson, Draco Malfoy, known conman, will do anything to get his hands on the reward- Even present a fake Harry Potter. But what happens when Harry is the real deal, and a curse is awakened?
1. Chapter 1- Curses

**Dancing bears, Painted wings**

**Things I almost remember.**

**And a song someone sings;**

**Once upon a December.**

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**Summary: When lord Black begins looking for his long lost godson, Draco Malfoy, known conman, will do anything to get his hands on the reward- Even present a fake Harry Potter. But what happens when Harry is the real deal, and a curse is awakened? **

**AN: This is based off of Warner Bros. ****_Anastasia_****. Neither belong to me, they are the property pf J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Studios. I already have most of the chapters out of the way, so updates will be quick, but I may withhold them until I see that the story is going well.**

**Warning: This fic will contain SLASH of the DRARRY variety. If you don't like it then please don't read it. I know it isn't everyone's cup of tea. I don't think there will be any lemons, as the story doesn't really allow it, but there will be some less than squeaky clean language from our boys.**

**Felix out-**

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**Chapter One- Curses**

Harry pulled at the neck of his dress robes.

He stood in front of a mirror, which was gushing about how adorable he looked.

At 8 years old, he was used to all of the functions he was forced to attend. His parents were high standing members of the Order of the Phoenix, close advisors to Dumbledore. So he was forced to make appearances at all of them.

The only thing that made this one in particular bearable was the fact that his godfather, Sirius, would be back from his trip. He would be attending the ball, and Harry couldn't wait to see him.

Voldemort, a dark wizard, had been trying to bring the Ministry to ruin. He had disguised himself as a light wizard, healing the youngest Weasley boy. He had been discovered, though. He was still on the lose, but hadn't shown his face in a month or so. Sirius had been looking for him.

Downstairs, the party was booming. Harry danced with his mum. Lilly laughed and twirled her son about before passing him off to Ginny Weasley, whom she believed had a crush on the boy.

Harry danced with Ginny. The great hall of Hogwarts Castle was beautiful this time of year, so close to Christmas, but for the party it looked radiant. There were trees, and lights, and a few faeries darted in and out of the holly wreaths and boughs.

Soon into the dance, a voice cut through the music and chatter of the guests.

"Excuse me, Lady Weasley, but may I steal my godson from you?"

Harry gasped and turned to see his Godfather. He grinned and ran at the man, wrapping his arms around him.

"Sirius! I've missed you!" Sirius laughed and scooped the boy up. "Of course you have! Life must get dull in the castle without me, I'd imagine."

Remus Lupin, who had accompanied Sirius over to the boy, snorted. "If dull is another word for peaceful, then I agree wholeheartedly." Harry chuckled at that.

"Oh Moony, you big stick in the mud."

Sirius bent down on one knee, setting Harry down.

"Now, Prongslette, I've got something for you." From his cloak he pulled a pendant. It was a coin with a Phoenix engraved onto its face. On the reverse, there was writing.

"My heart is in Godric's Hollow?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You know the old muggle saying, home is where the heart is? Well I've bought a cottage in Godric's Hollow. Your Mum and Dad used to live there, it was a beautiful little village. And I was hoping, one day, you'd come there with me."

Harry gasped. "Really?"

Sirius nodded. "Of course. But that's not all it does. Remember that song I used to sing you, when you were little?" He pulled a small box from his cloak and held it out. It was gold, with a few rubies set into a simple, yet elegant pattern on the front. In the center of the design was a small slot. Sirius took the pendant and slid it into the slot, turning it. The top opened, and out slid a pair of dancers. They looked strikingly like his parents. The tune played.

"A music box!" His eyes lit up. It was beautiful, and the tune was soothing. He locked his arms around the man once again.

Just then, a loud noise drew their attention. Harry turned just in time to see the crowd parting like the red sea for Moses. A tall man in a dark cloak stood. He had a man standing close to him, with long white hair. Harry recognized him as Voldemort, and his tag along was Lucius Malfoy.

Harry's father stepped forward, Minister Dumbledore behind him.

"You should know better than to show your face around here, Voldemort." He was holding his wand, ready to strike.

"You have betrayed me, Potter. And I lay a curse. I will not rest until the Potter line is dead!"

Sirius grabbed him. "Come on, Prongslette, we've gotta get you out of here." He started to drag him out.

"But Mum and Dad!"

"Shhh."

By now everyone was screaming and running. There were flashes of green light.

They made it upstairs. Kingsley Shacklebolt ran I to them.

"There's news from the Ministry. Voldemort has sparked a revolution, they're toppling the statue as we speak. They are trying to set up another political system."

Harry was sobbing by now. Sirius swore, and Remus, who Harry had only now realized had accompanied then, sent him a scathing look.

"Things have gone to hell in a handbasket. I'm getting Harry out of the castle, Voldemort said he was after the Potter line." Shacklebolt gasped.

"We have to go, head down to the great hall to help." He hoisted Harry up and they ran. They heard shouts behind them.

Harry dropped the music box. "Wait, my box!" He pulled from Sirius's grasp and grabbed it.

The shouts were closer. Suddenly a secret door in the wall slid open. A boy Harry's age poked his head out.

"In here, come on." Sirius nodded and dragged Harry in, Remus following. They were lead down a few stairs, and the passage opened into the kitchens. They crossed the room, where the boy opened another passage.

More stairs, and it ended in a wall. He ran his hand over it and hooked his fingers on a circular stone. He turned it, and the wall slid open.

They ran for it, Sirius shrugging off his cloak to wrap around Harry. Something snagged Harry's ankle and he tumbled.

Voldemort was there, pointing his wand. Harry screamed and kicked.

"_Avada_-" before Voldemort could finish the incantation, a tree limb of sorts came down, smacking him. Harry got away just in time for another to come by and hit the dark wizard across the face. Remus grabbed him and they darted off again, Harry sparing one last look at the man taking a beating from a tree. He was tossed into the lake by the limbs, breaking through the ice that had covered it with the force.

The lake started to close over, and he was gone.

The trio ran to Hogsmede. There was a train already leaving. Sirius jumped on, Remus following. Sirius reached for Harry's hand, but the train was picking up spead.

"Harry!" Harry managed to grasp his wrist, but he slipped, slamming his head onto the tracks. Sirius yelled for him, but he was held back by others. If he had jumped from the train, he'd be a goner. No one spared another glance at the boy lying on the tracks, too busy with their own panicking.

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**AN: Comments? Construction criticism? Spelling errors I didn't catch? Please drop a review in the appropriate place. This is not the only story I am working on, but it is my priority. I have someone very close to home who will murder me if I don't finish it.**

**Felix out-**


	2. Chapter 2- Owl Advice

**Chapter 2- The Road Less Traveled By (or Advice From An Owl)**

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Harry laughed and turned back to wave goodbye to all of the children in the window. His home for the last 9 years loomed over him in the midday sun.

"Goodbye!" He yelled. He could hear their muffled responses.

Mrs. Dursley rolled her eyes. "Now, I've got you a job down in the city- _Are you listening?!_" Harry snapped his eyes back to the Orphanage keeper.

"As I was saying. I got you a job in the city, an acquaintance of mine needs an extra hand around his shop. You'll be getting room and board from him." She began to lead him to the gate.

Scotland was nippy this time of year, and the snow hadn't yet melted, but the March sun tried admirably. This created a slushy mess that soaked through Harry's ratty, too-big boots, his too-big trousers, and... well his too-big everything.

It was all hand me downs, previously owned by the woman's son, Dudley. He was a whale of a boy, and most of the money the woman got to run the orphanage went to buying him any sweet his stomach rumbled for.

He rubbed his hands together, the chill soaking through his gloves, and then burried them in the pockets of his very large jacket.

Mrs. Dursley all bit shoved him out of the gate.

"You've been a thorn in my side for years, acting all high an mighty, and all of that funny business... You won't do any of that around your new boss, are we clear? You're an orphan, a freaky one at that, and you'll never be anything more. You'll earn your keep, or you'll be on the streets, Grunning's will see to that, it's a respectable establishment."

Harry was only barely paying attention to what the horse-like woman was saying. He was far too busy fiddling with his necklace. He'd had it since before he could remember.

He had been found wandering the hillsides when he was only 8, and he had had only a pendant on his person, with the name of a town that didn't exist. He had been a mystery, baffling government officials. Pretty soon he had been all but forgotten, shoved in this run-down building with an ill-mannered and equally run-down woman and her horrid husband, who thankfully wasn't there most of the time. Sadly, he worked at the place Mrs. Dursley had gotten him a job at.

Lucky him.

"I have family though... and I'll find them." He sounded fierce, determined. And he was. Harry could hear her cackling. She slammed the gate and turned, walking back into the house.

He heard her talking to her self. "The freak thinks someone would actually want him, he'll learn!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned. The sun was high, and the air was cold. He'd need to hurry, or with his luck he'd catch his death in the melting snow. Heaving a sigh, Harry set off down the country lane, a spring in his step.

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He came to a road sign after a few hours, the sun climbing across the sky and shining weakly behind the clouds that promised a storm. Though there were two roads, there was only one sign. It proclaimed the name of the town he was meant to go to, a boring village with boring people. The other road was unmarked.

This was getting interesting.

He took off his scarf, which was beginning to make him overheat. He shoved it in one of his pockets, the end trailing into the snow.

"One sign leads to misery, a dead end job for a dead end life," he mused. He looked up the other path.

"The other... who knows. Adventure, maybe?" He started off down that way, then backtracked.

"But maybe..." he sighed and collapsed on a snow pile. "Someone send me a sign!"

He heard a hoot. Startled, he looked up.

There was a snowy white owl sitting on the sign post.

"An owl, in broad daylight?" He stood. The owl swooped down, snagging his scarf in its beak and taking off down the unmarked road.

"H-hey!" He ran after it. The bird landed, hopping down the road a ways.

"I can't believe it. An owl wants me to go down the road." He perked up and grinned.

"Who am I to turn down such a sign, hmmm? Two paths diverge in a... uh... snowy place? I will take the one less traveled by!" Chuckling at his horrid poetry, Harry hurried after the owl.

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On the way, the owl never deserted him. In fact, it was perched on his shoulder as he walked. He had long since reclaimed his scarf, which was wrapped around his neck. The sun was no longer directly above, and the chill had started to seep back in.

"Hedwig. I think I'll name you Hedwig. She's the patron saint of orphans... I think..." he shrugged and continued on his way.

He stopped to rest once, sharing a bit of a sandwich he had packed with the owl.

"Do you know what lies at the end of this road, Hedwig?" The owl gave a hoot, which Harry didn't understand, of course.

"My name's Harry, by the way. At least, that's what Mrs. Dursley decided. It's boring, I hate it. I wish I had a cool name, like Blaise."

The owl hooted once more, which made Harry giggle. "A woman of few words. I find that comforting after Mrs. Dursley's shrieking." Another hoot. He was growing to like his new companion, the beautiful creature she was.

Definitely too smart for an owl, though, but be it far from him to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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**AN: Two chapters in a day! Kidding, I have 7 waiting, and 8 in progress. I'll probably have them all up, I might not, you never know.**

**A few friends have asked if I want to keep this mostly like the movie, but I am going to add a few scenes of my own. Obviously, since they don't go to Paris, I have to make an improvisation for the night out. And there will be a few added scenes as well, such as a plot bunny I had for a drunk Harry and a bunch of our favourite redheads.**

**Felix out-**


	3. Chapter 3- Rumour, Legend, Mystery

**AN: Well, here's the third chapter. Enjoy.**

**Felix out-**

**Chapter 3- Rumour, Legend, Mystery**

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Draco grabbed a Daily Prophet from the stall outside of the Three Broomsticks, tossing the man running it a sickle. The headline declared the same thing it had for a few days now;

Sirius Black Looking For Long Lost Godson.

Rita skeeter really laid it on thick, spinning a tragedy of a child, Heir to Minister Dumbledore, lost in the confusion of the evacuation of Hogwarts, which still sat abandoned. The castle loomed over the small village, even at the distance it was. Unlike just a decade ago, there were no lights twinkling in the windows. Some said even the giant squid seemed to have left.

After that fateful day when Voldemort killed off Minister Dumbledore and half of his followers, no one had stepped foot back in except to recover anything personal and bodies of the lost.

But now Sirius Black was looking for Harry Potter. It was a stretch; anyone who had been at the ball could tell you that Voldemort had sworn to kill off all of them. But Draco had shown them out of the castle that day. They had made it out just minutes before Voldemort was said to have been sealed in the lake.

He had snuck in to the castle that day, flooing to the Three Broomsticks and making the long trek to the castle in the chilly December air. He knew the secret passages of Hogwarts like the back of his hand, and few ever knew he was there. When he had pushed open the side passage to see Lord Black (whom he recognized from pictures his mother had) running with none other than Harry Potter (who everyone recognized), he had hesitated only a second before beckoning them. He had known some of what his father was planning, and his teen rebellion had started a few years early.

Draco made his way back to the Hog's Head, humming a random tune and flicking through the paper. Every page was plastered with the story of how the old ways were cast out.

Horace Slughorn, his partner in crime (literally), was in a room in the back. The pub had a notorious reputation for being the center of the black market in Hogsmeade.

All the rumours were correct.

Horace sold hot merchandise, anywhere from pilfered potions to an array of knick knacks and baubles. There were also a few less than legal potions ingredients and whatnot. Draco helped acquire them, and got half of everything. Between them, they could talk a cloak off of a man's back if they put their heads to it.

"Horace, when do the next batch of auditions come in?" He asked.

"An hour yet, m'boy." Horace was a large man. Many said he looked like a walrus, as well. He was short and squat, with a moustache. He was also starting to go bald.

Draco, on the other hand, was tall and lean. His platinum blond hair fell around his face fashionably, softening his sharp aristocratic features. He also had piercing silver eyes. It helped when trying to swindle people. Draco was handsome and charming, and Slughorn looked unsuspecting. A deadly tag team.

Draco sat in an old armchair, snapping open the paper. "We'll find someone convincing, Horace, trust me. Then we'll snag the reward and we'll be at the top of the world! No more dirty alleyways, and dusty back rooms. I'll buy Malfoy Manor back from the Ministry and get a few house elves. It'll do my mother good to see that her son is where he belongs."

Draco had lost the manor when it was found out that his father had helped bring down Dumbledore. He had had no part of it, but that didn't stop the Ministry from leaving him and his mother almost penniless, taking almost all they had for reparations. They had moved in with his aunt Andromeda Tonks, her husband Ted and their daughter, Nymphadora (who hexed you a new arsehole if you dared call her such a thing, she preferred Tonks thank you very much).

It had been alright, but it was far from what he had been used to.

It's where he learned how to be sneaky. His mother had never liked it, but he had learned how to steal and hustle and swindle by the age of eleven. While Narcissa had found a job at a little cafe in Diagon Alley, he had made a few galleons selling an array of things to less than trustworthy people in Nockturn.

Draco pulled a box from his pocket. It looked like a jewelry box, but he couldn't open it, and it obviously contained no jewelry, for when he shook it there wasn't a sound. But it had belonged to Harry, and if the imposter had it then it might help their case. He had almost gotten them caught to retrieve it, after all. He had found it out in the snow after the fact, abandoned and forgotten, just out of reach of the womping willow. He figured it had fallen out of his pocket in his haste, and it hadn't made a sound as it hit the snow so Harry was none the wiser.

"Oh M'boy, such big dreams, such ambition!" Horace waved his wand, the dust on his chair disappearing. He settled in with a glass of firewhiskey.

Horace had always taken people with ambitions under his wing. Of course, he only chose the ones who could get there. He wanted a cut.

"And they will be realized in due time. With Harry Potter." He took his own glass and they cheered to changes to come. All the while, he was staring at the picture of the boy in the paper. He used his wand to cut out the picture of the boy with his family. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about everything. Where was Harry Potter?

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**AN: if you have any ideas for scenes, I may just add them, so don't be afraid to send me a PM or a review. **

**Felix out-**


	4. Chapter 4- Somewhere To Belong

**Chapter 4- Somewhere To Belong**

**AN: I wasn't going to update today, because my Kindle is acting up and I didn't want to fight with it, but it's JULY 31st. I mean, you can't just not update your Harry Potter story on Harry Potter's birthday.**

**Felix out-**

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Harry smiled when he saw a small town ahead. He could see people wandering about, shopping bags in their hands. It was nice, refreshing in a way. The place was beautiful. The name was strange though, he mused as he saw a sign proudly proclaiming "Hogsmeade". He wondered why there hadn't been any roadsigns.

Hedwig gave a hoot on his shoulder when he paused, and he chuckled. "Oh alright girl, I heard you, I'll get a move on."

He walked into the village, his eyes scanning the area. Shops, pubs, it all looked like something from an old story. How odd.

A man walking by looked like he was dressed up in a costume, wearing an odd sort of cloak, emerald green.

The man walked by a cart outside of a shop and his cloak snagged on a nail, tearing. Harry winced at the sound. The man pulled a stick-like thing from his sleeve and waved it. Harry watched as the cloak weaved back together, good as new. His eyes widened and he stumbled, falling.

Hedwig hooted in an irritated sort of way, taking flight to avoid going down with him. A woman stopped next to him. "You alright?" She asked. Harry nodded and stood, brushing the snow from his clothes. He hurried along.

A stall outside of a building with a sign that said "Three Broomsticks" had newspapers and magazines laid out. There was one called the Quibbler, which took Harry five times to pronounce properly, another called Teen Witch, and a newspaper called The Daily Prophet.

The pictures were MOVING. He looked around at the town. There were signs in windows of shops proclaiming potions, and robes for every occasion. Harry's eyes widened.

These people, this town, they were just like him! He grinned. He had given up all hope finding someone else who could do things like he could. Magic, he knew that was what it was. He could do magic, and he had found a town full of people who could as well.

Suddenly he found himself with a mouthful of snow. "Move it, kid!" Harry turned and saw the person who had shoved him walking into the place called the Three Broomsticks. Harry stood slowly, wandering through the town. Hedwig hooted over his shoulder at the pub in an offended manner.

"So, where now, Hedwig?" He rubbed his hands together, then looked at a newspaper. The headline proclaimed that someone was looking for his long lost godson. "Excuse me sir, how much for a paper?" He asked. The man grunted.

"A sickle." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Er, sickle?" He pulled out a few bills. How much was a sickle?

"Muggle money, Eh? Better get that sorted." Harry nodded and turned.

Someone grabbed his arm.

"If you need an exchange, see Draco, in the old castle. But you didn't hear it from me." With that, the woman who had grabbed him was gone, blending with the crowd.

"Draco, old castle. Got it." He started off, then realized he had no idea where he was going. He stopped to ask for directions.

The person took in his ratty clothes with an upturned lip, but Harry ignored it. He had found his place in the world. Sort of.

* * *

Draco and Horace set out for Hogwarts. They had long ago set up there for the more underhanded schemes they had concocted. Aberforth seldom asked questions, but he was a nice bloke, and Draco didn't want to get him in a rough patch with the law.

If things went pear-shaped they didn't want him involved, even by renting rooms to them.

Waiting to audition for the part of Harry Potter were tons of young men. Draco wrote a few names down, but most were completely unbelievable.

Honestly, one was as blond as Draco was! Didn't people see the old paintings and photographs of the boy?

What some people would do for money. Draco snorted at his thought, noting the irony in his statement.

Another few men and Draco was ready to pitch himself off of a tower.

"We'll find someone, m'boy." Horace patted his shoulder.

Draco nodded. "Next!" He called, checking the list again. A woman walked onstage. Draco groaned**.**


	5. Chapter 5- Me, Him?

**Chapter 5- Me, Him?**

**AN: I finally found a way to get my stories updated that doesn't make me want to hurt things. Never get a Kindle fire, they are NOT just like tablets. Not even close.**

**Felix out-**

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Harry looked up at the old castle, in complete awe of the scene. There was a large forest looming nearby, ominous and mysterious, but charming in its own way.

There was also a large lake, glittering in the late afternoon sun. There was a large area that looked like some sort of sports field, but what sport required rings that high?

He carefully made his way to the castle, Hedwig's weight a comfort on his shoulder, reminding him that he wasn't alone. Harry pushed open the large front doors of Hogwarts, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

The cold, crisp air from outside swirled in, bringing bits of snow into the entrance. Harry turned and pushed the doors closed, putting his whole weight against it.

They were heavy, but the hinges were also stiff and rusted from years of disuse, and they stuck something fierce.

Once it was closed, Harry took a second to look around, truly taking in his surroundings. The entrance hall had a few torches, none burning, of course, all cold.

There were also statues, but they were so dusty he couldn't tell what they would have been. Perhaps a person? An animal?

He left footsteps in the grime and dust covering the stone floor, the tails of his scarf trailing behind him as well.

Hedwig made a loud rustling noise as she took off, exploring just as Harry was.

He came to another set of doors and pushed them open. It was wonderful; The ceiling was made of glass, and there were a few candles lying about but many were floating in the air, burning. It must have been the work of magic.

Cobwebs connected the floating candles and covered the long tables against the walls like a second tablecloth. There were plates and cups decorating the tables, and he picked one up, blowing off the dust. He could see his own reflection and smiled softly at the boy who looked back. He set it back down and turned in a circle.

Upon closer inspection, he realized, the ceiling WASN'T glass. It was enchanted. It was reflecting the sky outside perfectly, and he could see the clouds as well, puffy masses that floated just inside the dome. There were Christmas trees on a raised platform, and the walls were decorated as well, like it had been abandoned during a Christmas celebration.

He could almost imagine what it had looked like, lights twinkling. He always liked Christmas time, because when Mrs. Dursley sent him out to do the shopping the towns were always transformed into a winter wonderland. But this was something else entirely.

This was magic. This was where he belonged, he felt it in his bones, and something danced just on the tip of his tongue. "What don't I know that I ought to?" He asked himself. He felt like he should remember something he wasn't. Had he been here before?

The boy twirled in a circle, spinning to the middle of the room. He could imagine grand balls being held here. The band would play on the raised platform at the end of the room, and guests would gather. He raised his arm as if dancing with someone, holding an imaginary shoulder, an invisible hand. He was twirled around the room, and he hummed a tune he had known since he was a child.

He got absorbed in his fantasy, imagination getting away from him. He bowed to his imaginary partner and took another. The boy smiled and laughed as well. Was this what he was missing all of his life? Was this the life he had lost?

He didn't here the footsteps drawing closer. "Hey, what are you doing in here?"

Harry jumped, screaming. He whirled around to face the person speaking, his foot getting caught on an uneven stone in the floor. He fell, his head meeting the stone with a resounding crack. A groan escaped his lips, his eyes falling closed.

"Oh damn, are you alright? Horace, have you got any potions on you?"

He heard footsteps, and then someone was touching his head gently, guiding him to sit. Harry opened his eyes, and pale features began to form, the details swimming and contorting until they became an actual human face. Icey grey eyes studied him, and Harry found himself subconsciously shifting backwards, away from the piercing gaze.

More footsteps, and Harry saw a heavy man waddling towards them, carrying a small bottle filled with an odd amberish red coloured liquid. He handed this to Harry, who took it cautiously.

"Drink it, it'll help the pain and hopefully fix any head trauma you may have gotten." Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't know if he should trust them or not.

Finally the pain in his skull won and he uncorked the bottle, tipping it back and downing it in one go.

It tasted awful.

He made a face and forced it down, hoping to god he wasn't sick everywhere.

"Should have given him a stomach settling potion, Horace. He looks like he's about to hurl."

"I'm FINE." The last word was spat with no small amount of venom. He pushed to his feet, swaying before he found his balance and everything didn't multiply before his eyes. The blond had stood as well, his arms poised as if to catch him should he fall.

"I'm looking for a Draco, apparently I've got the wrong money, and a woman said I should come here to get it exchanged. Something about sickles, though that's quite a strange name for currency. I don't believe I've heard of it before..."

Draco and Horace exchanged a look.

"Are you a muggle?"

"Am I a WHAT?" Harry looked at the blond like he'd grown another head.

"Oh god, Horace, we'll have to get him to the ministry to be obliviated."

"Should we do it and dump him off in a muggle city?"

"No, I'm pants at memory charms, and I know you aren't the best with charms at all, much less memory ones. Unless you want him to end up like that Lockhart fellow-"

"STOP." The two men turned to look at Harry.

"I don't know what you are talking about, but no one's touching me. If you can't help me, I'll be taking my leave, thank you." He turned, making his way to the door.

He felt a hand grab his arm roughly and panicked. He curled in on himself and suddenly the two men were blasted back by a wave of power, knocking them off of their feet. Harry looked up at them and blushed. Oh, what would they do now?

The blond one got to his feet first, helping up his friend, who looked much like a turtle that had found itself shell-down. The thought made him giggle lightly.

"Well, guess that answers the muggle question. But if you're a wizard, why don't you know anything about this world? Where are you from?"

The man who he assumed was Horace pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, his eyes scanning its contents.

His eyes widened and his head snapped up, roaming over Harry's face. "Draco."

"But perhaps your parents kept you away from it? Your age-"

"Draco!"

"What?" The man showed Draco (oh, so this was who he was sent to see?) The paper, and Draco gasped.

"Could it be... Why are you here again? Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." Draco stepped forward, extending a hand. Harry took it, giving it a firm shake before releasing him.

"Harry. Just... Harry." Draco remained silent, wordlessly asking for an explanation.

"You see, I'm an orphan. I've been living at Dursley's Orphanage since I was 8 or so. They found me wandering about and I didn't remember a thing. Since Harry was a common enough name, and I seemed to respond to it okay, that was the name I was given. I recently turned 17 and Mrs. Dursley managed to find me a job as a shopkeeper's assistant. I took the wrong road, and well... here I am!"

Draco raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. It was a crime, how elegant he could look, covered in dust from the old castle and hair out of place.

"I'm also trying to look for a place... Godric's Hollow. I was told it didn't exist, but... it's all I have."

Draco and Horace visibly brightened. "Well, that's such a coincidence! We're going to Godric's Hollow."

Harry grinned happily. "So it does exist! Oh that's wonderful! I can just tag along with you!"

Horace shook his head sadly. "We only have three tickets to the train, and the third is for someone important. You see, a man who lives there is looking for his godson. His name was Harry Potter, and he was a very important person. Minister Dumbledore had chosen him as his heir, he was the equivalent of a prince. Of course it means nothing now, the old ways were thrown out, but he would still be very important in society. We were trying to find him. In fact..."

He handed the paper from earlier to Harry.

It was a portrait of a family of three. There was a woman with emerald eyes and fiery red hair. The man next to her was only about a head taller, with unruly chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. He had his hand on the shoulder of a young boy with the woman's eyes and the man's hair. They were all smiling. Both the man and the boy wore glasses, much like the one Harry wore, but obviously in much better condition. And hopefully the right prescription, Harry found his glasses helped very little sometimes.

"He looks a lot like you, Harry." Harry's eyes snapped up at that. He let go of the picture.

"You think I'm some... some prince? No way." He scoffed and turned.

He wasn't going to listen to this, they were crazy! Him, a prince.

"But you could be! Think about it. We take you to see Lord Black. If you turn out not to be, you'll be in Godric's Hollow anyway!"

Harry shook his head. "No, no..." he kept walking, grabbing his scarf from where it had fallen.

Horace turned to Draco. "Are you going to just let him walk awa-"

Draco hushed him. He held up a hand, counting off his fingers. Three, two, one...

Harry thought about it, pausing out in the entrance hall. They had a point. The resemblance was uncanny. What if...? He turned around.

"Actually..." Horace looked up. There was the boy, in the door. He looked so small in a room so massive, he didn't seem a day over fifteen. Petite, large eyes glowing behind his glasses, swimming in the awful muggle attire.

"I guess it couldn't hurt. I mean... If it turns out I'm not this Potter boy, honest mistake, yeah? And if I am..." he stepped in slowly.

Draco clapped his hands, grinning. "Perfect, come on!" He grabbed the boy's wrist and all but dragged him from the castle, Horace waddling after him. They had found their Harry, all that was left was getting him to look and act the part.

* * *

**AN: don't be afraid to review, I don't bite. This is my first story I've put online, and I'm eager to know what strangers think of my work.**


	6. Chapter 6- Train Wreck

**Chapter 6- Train Wreck**

**AN: I've finally ran out of chapters that are ready, so the next update might be a while. Please review, I know a lot of people have been reading and that's great, but I really want to hear what you guys think, if you think I could be doing something better, anything. Just to say "hey I really like this"**

**Felix out-**

* * *

Lucius Malfoy watched as his pathetic excuse for a son son lead the Potter boy from the castle. He scoffed at the scene. Him? Harry Potter? The scrawny little boy with glasses nearly as large as his face?

He lifted a hand to the gold locket hanging around his neck. It couldn't be. Harry Potter was dead, His lord had seen to tha-

The locket started glowing, heating up under his touch. He jumped. This wasn't possible, his lord was dead! He had seen it!

Lucius had been hiding out for nearly ten tears, not wanting to risk being thrown into Azkaban, like the others who had followed Lord Voldemort. He had been holding on to the locket as well. It held a piece of his Lord's soul, and it was supposed to tie him to this plane of existence until his curse had been fulfilled. He'd thought the man dead, the curse fulfilled and the Potter line ended, but that obviously was not the case...

Holding his wand firmly in hand, Lucius stalked out onto the grounds, making sure the unlikely trio was long gone. So the boy truly was the Potter spawn, eh? He knew where they were heading, at least. He'd make quick work of them- after he found and rejoined his master, of course.

The lake wasn't frozen solid this time of year, but there were thin sheets of ice floating on it. Lucius stood at the edge, peering into the murky depths of the black lake. The smooth surface began to move, then ripple outward. Bubbles began a few metres from shore, then moved closer.

A form began rising from the water, a thin figure. The person drew closer and Malfoy senior couldn't help but shudder. His lord was beginning to rot. He was cloaked in a dark robe, the hood up, but Lucius could see his skin deteriorating. He was undead, almost an inferi.

This is what the curse had reduced him to.

"Lucius, you have returned to me. I thought you would have pleaded innocence to the ministry." His blood red eyes flashed dangerously.

Lucius bowed. "My lord, I thought you dead. No one has seen hide nor hair of the Potters in years. Now Black is searching for his lost God son. Apparently, he is still alive."

Voldemort scowled. "Obviously. It seems a curse is not what it used to be." He chuckled lightly. The sound wasn't cheery, it was cold and harsh.

A glint of gold drew the dark lord's attention to Lucius's neck. "My locket, you have kept it safe, then. But I was under the impression you thought me gone for good? I never took you as one for sentimentality, Lucius."

Lucius unclasped the necklace with shaking hands, holding it out to the dark lord. "Yes, my lord, I have been keeping it safe all these years, just in case y-" he slipped on a patch of frozen earth, the locket flying from his hand.

"No!" Voldemort dashed for it, snatching it from the air and clutching it close to his chest while Lucius fell face first into the chilly depths of the lake. Sputtering, Lucius regained his footing, only to be grabbed by the collar by an enraged dark lord.

"I SPLIT my SOUL for this. And you, careless as you are, nearly lost it!" He brought his wand from the depths of his cloak, pointing it at the shaking blond.

"Crucio." As Lucius lie writhing in pain, Voldemort contemplated his course of action. He had to kill the boy, of course. But how?

"Do you know where the boy is going, Lucius?" He asked. Lucius struggled to his feet, nodding. "Yes, my lord. The Hogwarts Express, they are set to board soon." Voldemort grinned.

"You need to get on that train. I want you to do anything you can to ensure they never make it, is that clear?" Lucius nodded. Voldemort clasped his wand, and with a POP, he was gone.

Lucius turned, making his way to town, casting a few charms on his person so he wouldn't be seen. This would be interesting.

* * *

Harry sat across from Draco in the compartment. Hedwig was perched on the back of the seat.

Before hopping on the express, they had stopped by the Hog's Head and picked up some things. They had set aside a trunk of necessary items for Harry during their travel, but other than that it was all theirs. Not a lot, of course, one trunk for each of them, plus an extra knapsack for Draco.

Draco slid into the compartment, clapping his hands. "Well, from here we are going to London. We'll be at King's Cross station in a few hours, and from there we will walk to the Leaky Cauldron. We need to stop at Diagon Alley, of course, get you some more suitable clothes."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course, I have to look the part, right?" He adjusted his glasses on his nose, emerald green eyes straying to the slightly frosted over window that overlooked the passing hills of Scotland.

"Do you think I could be?" He suddenly blurted out. He turned red, his cheeks heating, and quickly babbled the rest of his question. "You know, Harry Potter." Harry reached a hand out, fingers making paths in the condensation on the glass.

"I think it's a strong possibility." Draco said, smiling charmingly. After that they fell into silence for the next few hours. Occasionally Harry would stroke Hedwig's feathers, and she would give a hoot of appreciation. Draco fell asleep tucked into a corner.

Harry noticed his gaze landing on his pale aristocratic features more than once. When sleeping, he rather resembled an angel. Harry inwardly snorted inelegantly at the thought. Draco, an angel?

Slughorn was busy writing something in a little booklet. He looked like he was concentrating very hard, the tip of his tongue occasionally darting out. When he was done, he smiled and stood, tucking it into his back pocket.

"Well, I am going to go search for the trolley. I fancy a few pumpkin pasties." He smiled and squeezed his way out of the compartment. In the hallway, he noticed a couple looking at their booklets. He inched forward, trying to hear their conversation.

"You see, they changed it. In the old ministry, official documents were an emerald green. Now, they are changing to this purple colour. Nine years, and they still haven't completely changed from the old ways." The man chuckled and snapped his travel paper booklet shut.

Slughorn paled. He rushed back to his compartment, seeing Draco and Harry. "We have a problem." He whispered this to Draco. The blond swatted at Slughorn, but the older man shook him awake. Silver eyes snapped open.

"What?" He hissed in annoyance.

"The papers, they've changed the ink to purple, ours is green!" Draco shot out of his seat.

Harry watched this with a look of curiosity. What had Draco so hurried? The man grabbed his trunk, pushing another into Harry's hand.

"Come on, Harry, change of plans!" The blond opened the door, ushering the green-eyed boy out.

They made their way to the baggage car, where Draco set his things down. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"The baggage car? There wouldn't happen to be anything wrong with our papers, would there?" He asked, voice icy. Draco smiled nervously and shrugged. Harry groaned. He turned and kicked a trunk.

"I cannot BELIEVE this! Of course we would be here ILLEGALLY." He sat down on the same trunk he had kicked, nursing his sore toes.

Suddenly, with an awful screeching noise and a loud BANG, the train lurched, sending Harry toppling over. Draco crashed into him as well, Slughorn coming down last, crushing them.

"What the bloody hell was THAT?" Draco was pushed off of Harry, who sat up quick.

The train shook once again. Hedwig hooted nastily, obviously displeased at being disturbed. Harry struggled to his feet, swaying as he made his way to the door.

Wrenching it open, he stood, shocked at the sight. The other cars were gone, and the mechanism that hooked them together looked as if someone had blown it to bits. The wind whipped his hair into his eyes, his clothes flapping. He shut the door quickly, before he fell onto the tracks.

"Slight problem," he said. Draco's eyes widened.

"What in Merlin's name is going on!" Draco wrenched the door open again.

"I'm going up to the front of the train, see what the conductor has to say." Swinging to the side and grabbing the ladder, wand between his teeth, he climbed up to the car's roof. He got to the top and cast a charm to keep himself from being thrown off of the top of the train. He made his way to the front, sliding into the conductor's car.

The man was dead, obviously the work of a killing curse. He swore, making his way back to the baggage car carefully. He closed the door behind him, locking eyes with Horace.

"No one's driving this train." Harry gasped. Draco rushed to the other door, throwing it open, the wind catching it and slamming it into the side of the train. He had to disconnect this cart from the rest if they were going to make it. The sight that greeted him nearly stopped his heart. The metal contraption was welded together.

Draco pointed his wand at the mangled mess. "Bombarda!" There were a few sparks, but not much else.

"We're going to die." Harry held his head in his hands. Eyes determined, he ran to where Draco was standing. He glared at the twisted metal, imagining it combusting. He focused as hard as he could. There was an explosion, and Draco and Harry toppled over. It had taken quite a bit of the wall as well, but at least they weren't attached to the rest of the train.

Hedwig took this chance to fly away from the car. Harry yelled after her.

"Hedwig!" He groaned. "Well, at least one of us will live."

Draco turned, spotting an emergency break. He let out a small cheer, running to pull the lever. It got a bit stuck, and he threw his back into it, yanking with all of his might. There was a Snap, and Draco was left holding the broken lever.

"Don't worry, we've got enough track between here and London. We'll be fine." He reassured Harry, who looked pale as death and ready to blow chunks.

Horace cleared his throat. "Or not." He pointed out at the distance. In a curve of the track, where it went over a few lakes, the rails were completely gone.

"Well." Draco turned to Harry. "We'll have to jump for it, won't we?" He turned to the side of the cart, wrenching open the long sliding door on the side. The tracks were at the top of a steep hill. Harry turned to Draco.

"After you." The blond glared at him. "Okay, okay, don't worry your little head Harry, I've got this." Harry rolled his eyes.

He cast around for something- anything- to help them. Draco took his wand and muttered an incantation. Ropes appeared, and he tied one end to the train. The other he sent out, looping it around the tracks. The train shuddered violently, and the trio was swept off of their feet once more.

"I don't think my bum can take much more of this!" Harry looked up seeing the rope snag, pulling up the planks that made up the tracks. The train lurched sideways, skidding. They gathered their things and stood at the side of the car that had been blown away, facing a gently sloping hill.

Draco jumped first, Harry following, Slughorn rolling down after them last.

Hedwig hooted, settling herself on Harry's shoulder. "Bloody lucky bird." Draco found himself with a face full of snow. Horace struggled to his feet.

"Well, we had better make our way to London, then."

"On foot?!" Harry groaned, flopping back down onto the snow bank. Hedwig hooted angrily and took flight, perching on a nearby tree.

"We were only about an hour from the station, it will not take long. If we are lucky, someone will come along searching when the train doesn't arrive on schedule." Horace Slughorn, the voice of reason.

Harry grabbed a trunk and groaned, beginning to make his way down the tracks. "Well, come on then! It's freezing, and it's dark. I'd rather not find out if there's anything that can eat me lurking in the shadows."

The two men exchanged a look and shrugged, following after him.

Draco wouldn't admit it, but sometimes he admired Harry's spark. It was endearing. When it wasn't irritating him, of course.

* * *

Voldemort swore, watching the trio get away.

That Potter boy was more powerful than he had anticipated, Lucius had taken every precaution.

The blond stepped up beside his master. "What is our next course of action, sir?"

Voldemort turned. "You will follow them for now. I have an idea, and I will need to work to put it into action."

With that, he was gone.

Lucius looked after the unlikely group as they faded into the distance. He felt a pang of regret for his son, whom he had loved at one point. He still did, if he was honest with himself. But he didn't have the luxury of emotional attachments. He needed to be a cold, ruthless killer.

Oh, but how he missed his family.

* * *

**AN: Longest one yet. It was originally two chapters, but one was way too short so I jammed them together. **

**Please review! **

**Felix out-**


	7. Chapter 7- A Bit of the Past

**Chapter 7- A Bit of the Past**

**AN: Sorry it took so long, I've been busy. Also, a shout out to Maddie24Kennedy for the cover art I'm sure you've noticed, and also pestering me into updating.**

**Felix out- **

* * *

Harry trudged through the snow, glad when it started to thin out as they went. His toes were starting to freeze.

"Why don't we do that appa... Apparatus or whatever thing."

Draco chuckled. "Apparating. And I'm okay with it, but I don't do it often. I'm out of practice, and if I tried to side-along you, I'd probably get us splinched, and Slughorn over there hasn't been on the platform in a good twenty years, so he'd rather not try it. I'd rather walk than lose a limb, yeah?"

Harry looked terrified. "You can lose a limb? Than why do you do it?!"

Slughorn laughed at that.

Harry huffed, adjusting his scarf. He stopped for a moment, breathing in the fresh air. The orphanage had been dirty and musty most of the time, and he hadn't had much time to just stop outside and BREATHE. The crisp clean oxygen out here in the Scotland hills was beautiful.

"Harry, come on." Draco was glaring at him. Harry rolled his eyes and stomped on, the snow seeping into his clothes, chilling him to the bone.

"Tell me about him." Slughorn looked at him curiously.

"About who, m'boy?" He asked.

"Harry Potter. What was his life like? His family? I should know a little bit, right?" He looked down at his feet, a bit embarrassed.

Draco thought a moment. "Well, since his disappearance, a lot of people have given interviews about what his family was like. Apparently his father, James, was a huge prankster. He taught his son, too, along with his three friends, Sirius Black, his godfather, and Remus Lupin. The third was a man named Peter Pettigrew. Apparently he's in Azkaban, he'd been the one to tell Voldemort where his parents would be that night. "They amused Dumbledore to no end, I believe. He was always an odd man, loved sweets, even muggle ones. I heard he had an affinity for lemon drops."

The blond paused for breath. Slughorn took over then.

"His mother, Lily, was extraordinary. Bright witch, she was, perhaps the brightest I'd ever met. She was a muggleborn, which meant her parents weren't magical. She met lord Potter when they were teenagers. She didn't much care for him, and I don't blame her, he wasn't the best of people in his earlier years. Rather self centered, but he grew out of it. Lucky him, most men manage not to."

Slughorn chuckled, shooting a glance at Draco, who turned red. "Oi!" He chucked a handful of stone at the larger man.

Horace laughed deeply then, before sobering and continuing on. "He finally convinced her to date him, and the rest is easy enough to guess. Dumbledore chose James as an advisor. He had always trusted the Potters, and James happened to have a head for politics. When Harry was born, they doted on him. His godfather never married, and so he treated him like his own son. So did Remus, now that I think of it. I remember seeing him at parties and the like. He was a cheerful lad, his emerald eyes shining with laughter. He was very kind as well, almost to a fault. Treated the house elves like his equals. He was the only child in the castle most days, so the elves were his only friends for a while. Dumbledore saw how he refused to let societal norms rule him, and named him his heir. Lily didn't quite like the idea, but she came around."

The man looked thoughtful.

Draco chuckled. "He was an odd kid. I snuck into the castle on occasion. We never talked, but I saw him at gatherings and such."

Harry pondered this information. Harry Potter sounded a lot like him. In fact, they were eerily similar. Maybe he could pull this off after all? Maybe he didn't have to act.

"So, you said he was kind of like royalty. Did he have any training? Lessons on how to act in public? His father was a lord, right? That means he had money before he was chosen as an heir. Did they always live in the castle, or do they have a family house somewhere? Does he not have any other relatives?"

Slughorn looked saddened. "No, his grandparents died when Voldemort showed his true colours. Their house was attacked, half of it was destroyed. Your parents had already moved into the castle by then. Their chambers was behind a portrait of a particularly fat woman. In fact, I believe they called her the Fat Lady."

Harry snickered. He could almost picture the woman. "What did he think about it? Being the heir, I mean. Was he spoiled or anything?"

Draco shook his head. "Honestly, I think everyone knew but him. He never acted like he really new. Hated all of the events, looked uncomfortable, and he was always shy around people. I remember once, that horrid Skeeter woman cornered him and he turned bright red, about the shade of a Wealey's hair."

He and Slughorn chuckled fondly. Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"A Weasley?" He'd never heard of a surname like that before.

"They were an important family, close to the Potters. Lots of kids, about seven last I counted, all ginger."

Harry smiled. Seven kids? A large family. He'd always wanted a large family, really. He'd dreamed that someone would adopt him, and they'd have a few other kids, maybe a dog (or a cat, he wasn't picky. He'd settle for a goldfish).

Draco suddenly gazed off at something in the distance, squinting. "I think... look, someone's coming!" Indeed, someone was. A team of men and women in scarlet robes were marching towards them. Draco waved his hands, and he and Slughorn sent up green sparks. The people hurried towards them, and within minutes they had met in the middle.

A tall, dark skinned man stepped forward. "My name is Kinsley Shacklebolt. Are you the only survivors?"

Slughorn stepped forward. "We were the only people in those carts, the conductor was dead, obviously the work of an Avada."

Harry spent the time looking at his feet, feeling the eyes of the people on him. A woman with wild magenta hair grinned at him when he saw his distressed expression, her nose suddenly turning into a duck bill. Harry gasped, stumbling backwards.

Kingsley noticed and rolled his eyes. "Nymphadora, if I turn around and you have anything less than perfectly normal features-"

The woman stepped up, magenta hair turning a deep fiery scarlet. "Don't CALL ME Nymphadora." A few of the other men snickered.

Kingsley chuckled fondly. "Alright Tonks, calm down. Let's get these men back to the station."

Draco cleared his throat. "Actually, we were heading to the leaky, would you mind..."

Tonks laughed. "Of course, Draco. Here, I'll take you." She looped am arm around the blond.

"Always were my favourite cousin, you were."

Harry started at that. Cousin? The dark skinned man, Kingsley, offered an arm to Harry.

"And what's your name, young man?" Harry blushed. "H-harry, sir." Kingsley smiled, obviously not finding anything odd in the name. A lot of boys had been named Harry after the lost heir, and Harry looked young for his age.

"Dawlish, grab Professor Slughorn, yeah?" That was Tonks.

Another man came forward, laying a hand on Horace's arm. "It isn't Professor anymore, Tonks, hasn't been for years."

Tonks laughed at that. "Force of habbit, sir. Now let's go!"

There were a few pops, and then Harry went through the most unpleasant sensation ever. He felt like he was being squeezed through a straw, and when he popped out of the other side he swayed, heaving a bit. He felt hands steadying him and collapsed into the person.

"Wotcher there. Harry." It was the woman, not-Nymphadora-I'm-Tonks. Harry let go of her, regaining his balance slowly. When he did he took in their surroundings. Nothing fancy, perhaps a bit dingy, and there were a few wizards sipping at cups of tea in booths scattered around. A hunched man came from the back, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Hey, Tom, we're just popping in to drop these men off and we'll be out of your hair. Don't worry, they aren't criminals, got caught in a nasty wreck." Kinsley tipped his hat to the barkeeper. Tom smiled at the men.

Draco stepped up to the counter, sliding a few coins over. "One room, please. And could we also have a few Sheppard's pies brought up, maybe a jug of pumpkin juice?"

He dug in his pocket again, bringing out another handful of golden coins. Tom nodded, putting the money behind the counter. He gave them a key and sent them off. The aurors bid them a good night as well, leaving with a pop. The trunks were lugged up the stairs, and Harry unlocked the door for the other two.

He stopped. "Wait, Hedwig! We left her beh-" There was a tap on the window, and Draco chuckled. Harry ran and threw the window open, letting in the snowy owl.

"But how-"

Slughorn stepped forward. "Wizarding owls are very intelligent. They are used for sending letters." Harry nodded, obviously surprised.

"Letters... wow." He stroked the white feathers, Hedwig letting out a sound that seemed to be the equivalent of a purr.

Draco was already sorting out the bed problem. He and Harry could probably comfortably fit on the bed, but what about Slughorn? Horace seemed to understand his problem and pulled an armchair from against the wall, taking off his jacket as well. He took out his wand and tapped it against his chair three times, mumbling something. The chair turned into a bed, and the cushion turned into a rather large pillow. His jacket was transformed as well, into a blanket.

"Well, that takes care of that." There was a knock at the door, and Harry rushed to open it. He took the plates from Tom carefully, Draco moving to help. They set the plates and such on the floor in the middle of the room after bidding Tom goodnight. A few candles were lit, and they tucked in to their food.

"So, why do you think lord Black is only starting to look now?" Harry asked. Draco swallowed a bite before answering. "Because he'd be legally an adult by now, at least in the wizarding world. We were only a few months apart, from what I remember. So he must be 17 by now. He's hoping that if he is alright, he's old enough to be seeing the papers and the notices and not relying on anyone else to help him that may not want to, such as a family that's taken him in and such."

Harry nodded. "Makes sense. If I took care of a child I raised as mine, no matter how good of a person I'd hate to hand them over at any point."

Horace Took a drink of his pumpkin juice. "So, what was your life like, Harry?" He asked.

Harry shrugged. "Alright, I guess. I mean..." he sighed. "It was horrid, for the most part. By the time I had gotten there, the rooms were already full, so I ended up sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs. It was pretty spacious, I guess, but once I got older it stopped being so. I went to school for a while, but when I was 11 I got pulled out. Supposedly I was a problem child. The only problem was that I was doing better than Dudley, the Matron's son, and he got me in trouble every chance he could for it. After that I spent lots of time in the library after all of my chores were done, teaching myself with the books there."

Draco gasped. "So you never had any magical education? I know I never saw you but... you were supposed to be contacted. You said that you had bursts of accidental magic, yeah? That means the ministry should have been notified that..."

Horace sat back thoughtfully. "Perhaps this Mrs. Dursley declined in your stead." Draco looked furious.

"She always did hate... what I could do. Thought it was unnatural. I got punished every time something happened, wether it was me or not. If dinner burned, it was my fault and I got no food for a day. If a board on the stairs broke, I was up to something and after I was done repairing it I was to stay in my cupboard for a week. When that happened, I was only allowed out for the loo once a day."

Draco stood abruptly. "That's... that's abuse! Those horrid, filthy muggles! Maybe my father wasn't so wrong after a-" "Draco!" Horace stod, setting a hand on his shoulder. He deflated instantly.

"Your father was a bitter, cold man with ridiculous ideas about the world. He was never right. What happened to young Harry was barbaric, and while it was far from an isolated incident, there are many more families out there that are loving, just as with the wizarding world. Now, perhaps we should call it a night, hmm? We need to be up bright and early to avoid the major crowds of Diagon Alley."

Harry stood and pulled off his scarf, coat, gloves, boots and socks. Draco smiled at Horace, mouthing a "thank you".

Harry slid into bed nervously, knowing he was sharing with Draco. Why was he so nervous? Draco changed into a pair of night clothes and slid in next to Harry, blowing out the candles as he went.

The room fell silent, and after an hour Harry found that he was the only one still awake. He thought over everything he had found out that day. Could he really be Harry Potter? Was he heading towards a family?

He fell to sleep that night with images of a happy family, and grand balls, and a tune he could almost remember.


	8. Chapter 8- Diagon Alley

**Chapter 8- Diagon Alley**

**AN: wow, it's been almost a week, hasn't it? But on the bright side, so many of you have favourited and followed my story that it makes me all warm and fuzzy to think about!**

**Felix out-**

* * *

Of all the ways Harry had imagined waking up, this was definitely not one of them.

Harry cracked his eyes open, the early morning sun bright. He buried his face in his pillow, trying to escape the harsh light.

His pillow smelled wonderful. A mix of vanilla and green apples. He burrowed into it further, inhaling the scent.

That's when it moved, and he realized his pillow wasn't a pillow at all. And he was curled around none other than Draco Malfoy.

Harry jumled, falling off of the bed, bringing the sheets with him. He ended up tangled in the bedclothes.

He heard a chuckle. "Looks like someone is a cuddle bug." Harry turned bright red at this.

"How the bloody hell was I supposed to kno-"

"Oh alright, don't get your knickers in a twist, Harry." Draco slid from the bed graceful as a cat. Not a hair was out of place.

Harry hated him for that, as his hair probably looked like a bird and it's five babies had been nesting in it for a week.

Horace was also awakened by the ruckus. "Someone send to Tom for breakfast, please."

Draco smiled fondly. "I'll get dressed and head down. Harry, I'm going to lend you some clothes, those are going in the bin. We will head out to the Alley today, and we'll get you some of your own. A wand would be nice as well."

Harry nodded, standing. Draco opened his trunk and pulled out an outfit for Harry.

It was a simple white button down dress shirt and black trousers, with an emerald green robe to go over it. He also transfigured Harry's shoes into nice black leather boots.

Draco himself pulled on a grey button up, an ice blue waistcoat and a matching robe, his trousers a grey to match his shirt. He tucked his pocket watch into his waistcoat and fixed his hair before disappearing down the stairs for breakfast.

Harry slid on his new outfit, looking over himself. He looked strange in such nice clothes. He attempted to put his hair to sorts but gave up after a while, shoving his old clothes into his trunk.£ Horace came over to him, smiling brightly.

"You look like a whole new person, m'boy. That colour suits you." Harry blushed.

Draco chose that moment to come back, Tom in tow with a cart of food for breakfast. It was nothing much, but Harry knew from dinner the night before that Whoever Tom had working the kitchens knew what they were doing.

Harry was handed a plate with eggs, bacon and a blueberry scone. He called Hedwig, who had been asleep on top of the wardrobe in the corner, and when she landed next to him he fed her a piece of his bacon. She hooted in appreciation, taking the offering.

Harry munched on his scone, humming in delight as he was also handed a cup of tea.

* * *

After breakfast, the trio marched downstairs.

When they exited through the back, Harry looked confused.

"Why are we back here?" It was a dead end, a large brick enclosure with a few old trash bins, dented and dirty, a few toppled over.

Draco pulled out his wand and tapped on a few bricks.

The wall started to part, and Harry gasped.

Diagon Alley was beautiful. It was bright, and cheery, and there were people everywhere, even at this early hour. He stepped in carefully, unsure of himself.

"Come on, then. We need to go to Madame Malkin's, she'll set you up with a new wardrobe in no time." Draco lead the way, and they pushed through the crowds.

Harry stared in wonder at the many shops he passed. Flourish and Blott's, Eyelop's Owl Emporium, Magical Menagerie, Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and many more. He almost bumped into people, but he didn't care. This place was wonderful!

Behind him, Horace was explaining what each shop was.

"And Gringott's is the wizarding bank, run by goblins. Nasty tempers, but they do their job well. Very well, in fact. I don't think there's been a break-in in years, there's rumoured to be dragons guarding some of the older vaults..."

Harry gasped. "Dragons? In a bank? If only the muggles had those." Slughorn laughed heartily at this.

Draco pulled them into a shop after a few minutes. A woman came from the back, smiling at them.

"Ah, Draco. And what can I do for you today?"

"My friend here needs a new wardrobe. Nothing much, perhaps three outfits and a pair of night clothes will do, and a nice pair of boots. He looks good in greens."

The woman nodded, pulling Harry and making him stand on a stool. A tape measure flew from her pocket, along with a clipboard and a quill. The quill began scratching away as the tape flew about, taking his measurements.

Madame Malkin, at least this was who he assumed she was, began pulling out rolls of fabrics.

Harry groaned, knowing this was going to take a while.

* * *

Rubbing his many pin pricks, Harry followed Draco and Slughorn. The woman had told them to come back in a few hours and pick up his clothes.

Outside a shop called Ollivander's, Draco pulled Slughorn aside. He handed him a small bag, whispered something to him, and sent him off.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where's he going?" He asked. Draco smiled, waving it off. "Just going to see a friend of ours, no big deal, really."

Harry knew something was up, but decided not to question it. He followed the blond into the store.

It was dark, and a little eerie. Quiet, as well.

"Ah, Draco Malfoy. Hawthorn, dragon heartstring. How may I help you today?"

Harry spun around to see an odd old man with grey hair and silver eyes watching them from a corner.

"Well, my friend here is in need of a wand." Draco didn't seem put off at all. Was this a normal thing?

The odd man stepped forward.

"Ah, yes... I was wondering when I'd see you. Come, young man. I know just the thing." He was pulled over to the counter and made to wait while Ollivander disappeared into the back.

He came out carrying a wand box.

He instructed Harry to open the box, and he did so, taking out the wand inside.

"ten and a half inches, oak, unicorn hair. Very firm, exceptional for transfiguration. Go on, give it a good wave."

Harry waved it, feeling more than a bit silly. He jumped when a window shattered.

The wand was whisked from him quickly.

"No, no, that one won't do..." he disappeared again, coming back with a few more boxes.

He pulled out another wand. "9 and three quarters, elm, dragon heartstring. Very swishy, good for charms. Give it a go."

He went through ten more wands with varying results, once catching the hem of Ollivander's robes on fire, which he put out easily. He could hear Draco chuckling at his problems.

"I wonder... yes, I do believe..." he reached under his counter, pulling out an old, dusty box. He blew the top, causing Harry to cough. He handed the box to the boy.

Harry opened it and took it out.

As soon as he touched it, he felt a surge of power. It enveloped him, and he felt warm. There was a glow radiating from him as well.

"Eleven and a half inches, Holly, Phoenix tail feather. Odd, it is. The bird who gave that feather only ever gave one more... that will be eight galleons."

Draco paid, and they made to leave.

"Have a good day, Harry. Good luck."

They were half way down the street before Harry realized they had never told Ollivander his name.

* * *

They had gone back and picked up Harry's clothes, meeting up with Slughorn, who had handed Draco a fat coin purse. Harry hadn't mentioned this, deciding he didn't want to know.

Now the three were sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, eating a few sandwiches.

"I've sent Hedwig off with a letter. When she gets back, we'll be heading to the burrow to see Remus Lupin."

Harry looked up at Draco. "I thought we were going to see Sirius Black?"

"Well, here's the thing. No one sees Sirius without getting through his friend, Remus, who is staying with the Weasley's. Remember, the family I was telling you about earlier? Basically, he looks you over and makes sure you aren't a huge hoax."

Harry stood abruptly.

"You never said I'd have to convince anyone I am! I won't lie!"

Slughorn pulled him back down carefully. "Don't worry, Harry. You won't have to lie. Remus is a good man, if you tell him your story he will understand in a heartbeat. You tell him what you know, and you'll go from there. Now come, we have finished our lunch. We will go and see if Hedwig has made it back with the go ahead to floo to The Burrow."

Upstairs, Hedwig was sitting with a letter clutched in her beak. She flew over to Harry, who took it from her and handed it to Draco.

The blond looked over its contents and smiled.

"We're clear to leave. Pack up, Harry."

They went about setting the room to sorts, packing away their things. Draco sent Hedwig on ahead, as she wouldn't appreciate going through the floo network.

They were downstairs once again, standing in front of a large fireplace. Draco deposited three sickles in a basket before pulling down a jar of green powder.

Draco held out the pot. "Take a handful and step in."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?!" Draco huffed.

Harry eventually did as told, and stepped in.

"Now, throw down the powder and say "The Burrow."

Harry nodded. "The burr-ACHOO" he let go of the powder when he sneezed, having breathed in all of the dust in the fireplace. Then he was spinning, before he shot out into an unfamiliar room.

There was a blonde girl with wide blue eyes staring down at him with a man who resembled her heavily.

Perfect.


End file.
